


Feelings (That You Don’t Wanna Fight)

by puckinghell



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, the winter classic gave me feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:13:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puckinghell/pseuds/puckinghell
Summary: In which Jamie Benn realizes what he wants… because of a cowboy hat?Alternatively: save a horse, ride a cowboy.
Relationships: Jamie Benn/Tyler Seguin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 246





	Feelings (That You Don’t Wanna Fight)

**Author's Note:**

> I saw gifs of Tyler and Jamie before the Winter Classic in their cowboy gear and I thought, oh.   
Also I have been told they're not actually wearing cowboy hats but you know what? AU where they are.
> 
> Title from Cowboy Casanova by Carrie Underwood

At this point, Jamie is pretty used to having a massive, Tyler-shaped problem in his life.

Like, Tyler got traded 6 years ago, so it’s been 6 years since he walked – no, bursted – into Jamie’s life and simply stayed there. And it’s not like Jamie was in love with Tyler _right _away: he was still under the impression that he was straight, at that point, and he’s had a few girlfriends here or there since then.

But it’s never lasted.

Three years ago, Jamie figured out why. It was late one night in May and it was right before Tyler would go back to Canada for the summer, and they were sitting in Jamie’s backyard drinking beers because they didn’t have to worry about hockey anymore, when Tyler said: “Boys, girls, I kinda don’t care, you know. I like everyone. Well, as long as they’re a good person.”

He’d grinned brightly at Jamie and Jamie had thought: _I try to be a good person. Maybe I’ve got a chance_. And then had promptly freaked out because did he want to have a chance with Tyler? Why did it feel like a weight had been lifted, knowing that Tyler liked guys too? Why did Jamie _care_?

Tyler just kept chatting about his dating life, that Jamie hadn’t heard a word of but which kept him blissfully unaware of Jamie’s internal gay crisis.

So, yeah.

It’s not been three years of pining – Jamie wouldn’t call it that, because that sounds pathethic – but it sure has been three years of… well, of Tyler.

Where the problem part of the equation comes in, is that Tyler is just kinda always there. He’s with him on the ice, of course, but he also shows up at Jamie’s house all the time, or invites Jamie over to his place or out to wherever; and it’s not like Jamie can say no, because then Tyler will pout and flash his brown puppy eyes and ask “Why?” and Jamie can’t very well answer “because I can’t breathe whenever I look at you.”

And whenever Tyler is there – which is, like said before, literally all the time – he’s taking up all of Jamie’s attention with his… Tyler-ness.

The thing is, Tyler is a tactile person. With everyone, but with Jamie maybe even more, though Jamie can’t for the life of him understand why. It’s like Tyler is physically incapable of sitting next to Jamie without leaning into him. Or getting drunk without ending draped over Jamie’s shoulder.

And he’s chatty. He’ll talk Jamie’s ear off and not even care if Jamie is listening – though he always is. He’ll laugh at Jamie’s jokes even when they’re not remotely funny. He’ll tease Jamie until he’s blushing, then soften his words by bumping his shoulder into Jamie’s and saying “love you, bro.” Which won’t do anything to lessen Jamie’s blush.

The point, is, that Jamie has a lot of experience with dealing with his Tyler-problem. He sees Tyler every day, and every day brings at least three situations that has Jamie’s heart beating in his chest so loud he’s _sure _Tyler will hear it, will finally see Jamie’s obvious, seen-from-space crush that for some reason, only Tyler has not seen. And then he won’t want to be Jamie’s friend anymore, or – more likely – he’ll have to let him down gently and it’ll be kinda awkward for a while.

Jamie doesn’t actually think Tyler would stop being his friend if he found out about Jamie’s crush. He thinks Tyler has about as much experience with people crushing on him as Jamie has with crushing on Tyler, which is a lot. He knows, realistically, that Tyler would say “ahh, bud, you too?” and laugh it off, before telling Jamie he still loved him and it would be fine, and probably hugging him too, but still.

Sometimes, Jamie very seriously considers it. But then he thinks about _what if_, what if Tyler isn’t that chill, what if it messes with the chemistry of the team, what if Tyler would stop touching him so much? Maybe, in the long run, it would be better for Jamie’s heart. But it would hurt so much, Jamie doesn’t think he can take those kinda risks.

So he doesn’t. But every time he doesn’t, he almost does.

**\--**

Anyway.

Jamie is pretty used to having a giant, Tyler-shaped problem in his life.

But he is still not prepared for what hits him, one Wednesday afternoon where they’re playing the Jets later that night.

When Jamie’s doorbell rings, he knows it can be either Tyler, or his next door neighbor who keeps losing her cat. He hopes and prays it’s Tyler, and his prayers get answered: however, if he knew Tyler would be showing up dressed as a cowboy, he might’ve asked for the neighbor’s cat.

“Tada,” Tyler grins. He does a pirhouette right there, on Jamie’s front porch, showing off his outfit: all black, with boots and a black cowboy hat, and a belt buckle the size of Jamie’s hand.

He looks, objectively, ridiculous.

But he also looks really hot.

“Uhm,” Jamie brings out, because his mouth feels as dry as the Sahara desert and he can barely remember what language he’s supposed to be speaking, let alone any words in said language.

“Ah, you don’t like it?” Tyler whines. “I bought it for the red carpet at the Winter Classic.”

“It’s not a red carpet,” is what Jamie comes up with.

“So not the point.” Tyler pushes past Jamie into his house. “I thought it looked pretty sick.”

It _does _look pretty sick. As in, Jamie feels a little sick, but also strangely horny. Which is not the ideal reaction to your linemate, especially right before your pre-game nap.

“I thought we could all get cowboy hats,” Tyler says. “The whole team. Make it like, a thing, you know?”

It’s over the top flashy, which is very Tyler, to be fair, and Jamie would hate it if it was anyone else but Tyler… However, it _is_ Tyler, so…

“That sounds cool,” Jamie says, “let’s do that.”

And it’s almost worth it for the massive smile that Tyler sends him.

“Knew I could count on you, Chubbs,” he says, kicking off the boots. “I’m having my nap here, by the way.”

Jamie doesn’t even protest, as Tyler makes his way to the guest room.

At this point, it’s kinda Tyler’s room, anyway.

\--

The Winter Classic kinda sneaks up on Jamie, with the holidays and family time, and things like that. He doesn’t see Tyler over the holidays but he talks to him, and one day a package shows up at Jamie’s door.

_??? _

he texts Tyler, and Tyler responds quickly:

_Just open!!_

It’s an outfit, complete with Jamie’s very own cowboy hat. It definitely doesn’t look as good as it did on Tyler, but Jamie strangely doesn’t hate it. Tyler even got him a jacket, because he knows Jamie doesn’t like to wear dress shirts on their own.

They make his tummy stick out.

_I look kinda weird_, he texts Tyler, and he adds a picture of him wearing the outfit. It’s not a very flattering picture – Jamie can only do so much with a mirror and a cell phone – but Tyler sends back some heart eye emojis, and then the water drop emoji, and the tongue emoji.

It’s a good thing Tyler can’t see what that does to Jamie.

He tries to remember those emojis when he puts the outfit on before the game, then gets in his car to go get Tyler.

Sometimes, they still drive to the rink together, and Tyler insisted they drive to the Cotton Bowl too.

“We have to turn up as a squad,” he said, which… Jamie doesn’t care. He just likes driving with Tyler.

“Bro,” Tyler exclaims, as he jumps into Jamie’s car, holding a cup of coffee. “You look fucking great!”

“You too,” Jamie mumbles back, and he hopes Tyler thinks the redness of his cheeks have to do with the cold.

He might be a bit quiet during the ride, but he doesn’t think Tyler notices. He’s chatting away, talking about the game first and then about something Gerry did this morning. Jamie isn’t really listening, but it’s nice, Tyler’s chatter in the background. It calms him down a bit.

“What is going on in that big head of yours?” Tyler asks, when Jamie puts the car in park.

Fuck, so he did notice.

“Nothing,” Jamie lies. “Just the game, whatever.”

“Dude, we’ll be good, relax,” Tyler says, playfully pushing against Jamie’s shoulder. “We’re gonna win this.”

Jamie smiles at Tyler, and it must be convincing, cause Tyler looks way too smug as he opens the door and gets out of the car.

His ass look really good in those pants. But there’s a game to win, so Jamie decides to file that thought for later.

\--

It’s crazy, the energy in the stadium, and Jamie feels his blood buzzing in a way he hasn’t felt during a game since the playoffs.

“Wow,” Tyler breathes beside him, as they line up to listen to the national anthem.

Jamie can’t help but agree with him.

There’s people everywhere, so many of them, but they’re further away from the glass than they are in any normal hockey rink, so it’s surprisingly quiet. He can hear Tyler shuffle behind him, back and forth, the way hockey players do when they’re standing still. He can hear Rads breathing loudly.

“Fuck,” is what Rads says, when the anthem ends and the crowd errupts.

And then the game is on, and it’s like everything fades into the background.

Jamie loves that, about hockey. It doesn’t matter what’s going on in his life; when there’s a game, there’s a game. And his mind will focus solely on the game.

It’s not hard to focus on this game because so much is happening: it must be the energy in the Cotton Bowl, or the fact that the Stars have beaten the Preds a fair few times now, because it seems that they’re out for blood.

The reason doesn’t matter much, to Jamie. All he knows is that they’re behind, and they need to score, but he also needs to make sure everyone leaves with their body as intact as possible. He’s not afraid to drop the gloves if need be, but again, they’re behind, so now is probably not the time.

However, when Tyler gets into a scuffle with Austin Watson, Jamie is in a scrum with some Predator before he even registers how he gets there. He can hear Tyler yapping at the ref in the background, and then he feels hands on him, so he lets himself be pulled away.

If Tyler is yapping, that means he’s not fighting, and that’s kinda all Jamie wanted to accomplish anyway.

“Careful, Seggy,” he breathes into Tyler’s ear, when they’re skating away. Tyler shoots him a cheeky grin.

“Says the guy who was wrestling someone literally two seconds ago.”

Jamie doesn’t even have to say it – _I can afford to get hurt, you can’t _– because Tyler is already rolling his eyes.

“And don’t start spewing that bullshit about how you’re replaceable, or whatever. You’re the captain. It’s time to get some fire in these guys.”

They’ve reached the bench and Tyler slaps Roope across the head gently. “Time to make some magic happen kid.”

It’s not just on Roope, but they do make it happen. One goal, two goals, suddenly it’s like the puck is going in at will: they win 5-2, and with no more injuries.

Jamie considers it a good game all around.

The mood in the locker room is infectious: everyone is yelling and laughing and of course, the loudest person in there is Tyler, laughing his hyena-cackle of a giggle that Jamie hates that he loves so much.

“Good game, bud,” Bish says next to him. Jamie thinks he should probably be the one complementing Bish: he hauled their ass out of trouble a few times. “Also, stop making heart eyes at Seggy.”

Jamie shoots up straight so fast he nearly hits his head on the wall behind him.

“Uhm,” he brings out. He must look like a deer in headlights – he sure feels it – because Bish laughs.

“Relax, I’m the only one noticing.” He shrugs. “I just… Maybe you should do something about it, you know?”

There’s so many words in Jamie’s head – all of them resembling _no_ – that he can’t bring out any of them, and before he knows, Bish is already off to the showers.

“We’re going out!” Tyler is bellowing, from the middle of the locker room, where he’s got Miro in a headlock. “Who’s in?”

A few guys whoop excitedly, and a few of the older guys – dads, husbands – shake their heads.

“Chubbs, you’re in!” Tyler exclaims, and Jamie doesn’t think he’s asking.

\--

So that’s how Jamie finds himself in a bar, wearing cowboy clothes, with a handful of teammates, who are also wearing cowboy clothes.

He would think it would draw eyes, but it doesn’t. Maybe this happens in Dallas all the time, and he just hasn’t noticed.

Jamie is a little tipsy. Not drunk, just tipsy enough that his cheeks are flushed and the room is a little fuzzy around the edges. He’s watching Dicky try – and fail – to pick up girls, and pretending that he’s not watching Tyler’s ass as he beats the rookies at darts.

Well, Miro and Roope are not technically rookies anymore, but they’re babies, so Jamie can’t help but call them that in his head.

Next to him, Guri is chatting with Dobby, but Jamie tapped out of that conversation long ago. He’s just emptied his beer when a full one appears on the table.

“The rookies don’t wanna play darts with me anymore,” Tyler pouts as he slides into the booth next to Jamie. He sits close enough that their thighs are pressed together, and then he leans in and bumps his shoulder into Jamie’s, leaving it there.

Jamie feels a little warm.

“They’re saying I’m cheating. I can’t help it I’m good at darts.” Tyler is frowning and his cheeks are a little flushed as well, but Jamie is pretty sure Tyler isn’t drunk. He’s only had a few beers, and, well, Tyler can hold his liquor.

“Stop bullying the rookies,” he grumbles, taking a swig of his new, cold beer.

“I’m not bullying them, I’m blessing them with my presence,” Tyler grins. He bumps into Jamie again and Jamie wonders if he’s doing it on purpose, because he noticed it affects Jamie; but that would be lowkey evil and he doesn’t think Tyler would. “You’ve gone quiet again, what’s up?”

Jamie focuses his gaze on his beer, where his hands are wrapped around the glass. There’s condensation on the outside of it, and his hands are a little wet. He would wipe them on his leg, if not for the fact that Tyler’s leg is kinda close to his, and he wouldn’t want to think about touching it.

Except now he is, so, that didn’t work.

“Nothing is up,” Jamie says, lying through his teeth. He doesn’t think Tyler will push. He never does. “Just a bit tired.”

“Grandpa,” Tyler says, but his tone is filled with fondness. “Want me to drive you home? I’ve only had two.” He gestures to the water glass in front of him.

Jamie thinks back to when they just met, and he had heard stories about Tyler and his partying habits. The first time they went out to a bar, to celebrate the win, he was fully prepared to go all captain on Tyler after two drinks, and order him to go home.

Tyler had one beer, then switched to water. When he saw Jamie looking, he said: “I’m ready for a clean slate.” And Jamie had looked him in the eyes and saw nothing but truth: it was then that he realized Tyler was just a kid, looking for a place to call home, for somewhere to belong and for people to accept him like one of their own.

“You’ve got it,” he’d answered. “Make it count.”

And Tyler had. He’d made mistakes, sure, everyone does. But nothing had happened like in Boston, Dallas had become home to him, Jamie knew that for sure. They became friends and then best friends and soon enough Jamie couldn’t even remember what his life was like before Tyler, but he assumed it was a lot less fun and a lot more lonely.

He gets hit with that nostalgia, with that warm fuzzy feeling in his chest that he usually tries to ignore, when it comes to Tyler. This time, he’s tipsy and happy and tired, and he smiles at Tyler before dropping his head to Tyler’s shoulder.

“If you don’t, I might just go to sleep here.”

Tyler’s laugh rings loud in his ears, and he can feel his body shaking beside him. Jamie is so in love it hurts.

“Let’s go, then,” says Tyler, and he gets up, extends his hand to help Jamie up. Not that Jamie needs it – he’s not _that _drunk – but it’s a nice gesture, anyway, and if Jamie waits maybe two seconds too long to let go of Tyler’s hand, well, he’ll blame the alcohol for that.

“Taking your boy home?” Guri asks, and Jamie would blush at that, if not for the fact that Tyler swings his arm around Jamie’s shoulders and pulls him into his side; Jamie doesn’t fit there, the way Tyler fits under Jamie’s arm, but it still feels way too nice.

“At least I’m taking someone home,” Tyler chirps, and Jamie thinks about the implication of that, and pinches Tyler in the side. He yelps, but he’s laughing as he escorts Jamie to the car.

The car ride is silent but it’s not uncomfortable. Tyler has got the radio on some ridiculous country station - he’s become way too Texan for his own good – and he’s quietly singing along.

The song switches and Tyler bursts out laughing; Jamie has no idea why, until Tyler starts yelling along to the song and he hears the words.

_He’s a good time cowboy Casanova, leaning up against the record machine_

_He looks like a cool drink of water, but he’s candy-coated misery,_

_He’s the devil in disguise, a snake with blue eyes,_

_And he only comes out at night,_

_Gives you feelings that you don’t wanna fight._

_You better run for your life_.

“I’ve got brown eyes,” Tyler grins, after blaring out the first chorus. “Jame, look at us, we’re cowboy Casanovas!”

He’s giggling and it’s infectious; Jamie can’t help but laugh, even if Tyler is the only Casanova in this car, and neither of them are really cowboys.

He glances over at Tyler. The muscles in his shoulders strung tight under his shirt, the slight smirk on his face, the way his brown eyes seem to shine in the glow of the streetlights.

And it’s not like Jamie has had a lot to drink, but it’s enough that he feels like some kinda barrier has lifted, like he feels like it might not be the dumbest thing, what Bish said.

Maybe he just needs to say it. And then, if he gets shot down, at least he can move on.

He just doesn’t want to have to fight these feelings anymore.

Because if he wants to kiss Tyler Seguin senseless, while he’s wearing a fucking cowboy outfit… he’s pretty sure he’s fucked.

The thought is still swirling in Jamie’s head when the song ends and Tyler parks the car.

“Want me to walk you to the door?” Tyler asks, eyes traveling down Jamie’s body as if he’s wondering if Jamie still has legs.

And Jamie wasn’t planning to do this, not like this, not now, not here, but suddenly his mouth opens and he hears himself speak.

“I like you.”

Tyler raises one eyebrow. “Yeah, I like you too, bud,” he says, smiling at Jamie.

Jamie takes a deep breath. He could probably still play it off, but he finds that he kinda doesn’t want to.

“No,” he says. “I _like _you.”

Tyler still looks very confused, and Jamie thinks, _oh my God, he’s not getting it_, and before he can tell himself that this is probably a bad idea, and it’s most definitely gonna be something that Tyler holds over his head for the next century, he blurts out: “Like, kiss-like you.”

For a second, Tyler’s face is completely blank, and then, he breaks out into the brightest smile Jamie has maybe ever seen.

“Kiss-like me,” he repeats, and then he cracks up laughing.

Jamie isn’t sure whether he wants to cry, laugh, or just run away, so he stares at his hands while Tyler cries with laughter in the driver’s seat.

Finally, the laughter starts to die down, and Tyler gets out of the car, walking to Jamie’s side.

It’s okay, Jamie tells himself. Tyler is just gonna pretend it’s drunk talk, it doesn’t mean anything, it’s funny and nothing else. It’s better, that way, he tells himself, and it might hurt now, but he’ll get over.

The car door opens and he gets out of the car. He fully plans to just walk past Tyler and go into his house and crawl into bed and hate himself until he falls asleep, but before he can, he feels a strong hand around his arm, and then Tyler yanks him and Jamie stumbles, letting his back drop against the car.

“What…?” he starts, but Tyler interrupts him.

“Kiss-like,” he repeats again, with a dumb, dopey smile on his face and twinkling eyes, and then he leans in, and presses his lips to Jamie’s.

His mouth is hot and wet against Jamie’s and Jamie thinks he genuinely might die. It’s everything he never dared to want, and so much more: Tyler’s hands on him, one at the back of his neck and one on his back, their chests pressed together so closely Jamie is sure Tyler can feel his heartbeat.

When Tyler pulls back, there’s something soft in his eyes.

“I can’t believe it took you 6 years to figure it out,” he grins, and Jamie’s brain short-circuits.

“6 years?” he repeats dumbly, and Tyler rolls his eyes.

“I think I fell in love with you the first time you told one of your dumb jokes.”

“Hey,” Jamie protests, “my jokes aren’t dumb, you always laugh!”

“Yeah, because I love you,” Tyler says, easy as ever, and Jamie nearly chokes on the air he’s failing to inhale.

As soon as he regains his breath, Tyler starts pulling him towards the house. Jamie feels his lips on his neck while he unlocks the door, and as soon as they’re inside Tyler is all up in his business, kissing him like there’s no tomorrow.

Jamie can’t say that he minds.

“I can’t believe it took a cowboy hat for you to figure out you wanna kiss me,” Tyler mumbles against Jamie’s lips, between their kisses. “I can’t believe you get hot for cowboy boots.”

“Please shut up,” Jamie groans, and then tries to accomplish exactly that by pulling Tyler into another kiss.

It’s not long before Jamie hears himself say: “Lets get to the bedroom.”

Tyler shoots him a look that’s somewhat smug, as is he was just waiting for Jamie to break. Then, with the same smugness in his voice: “Yeehaw.”

Jamie _almost _kicks him out of the house, for that.

Almost.

As it is, he just kissing him some more.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @puckinghell on Tumblr!


End file.
